


Ultimatum

by Velace



Series: Swan Queen Week 2015 [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Married Life, forbidden love au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3266291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velace/pseuds/Velace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Evil Queen is no match for Emma Swan when it comes to the things she loves… at least, that's what Emma thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ultimatum

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Français available: [Ultimatum - Traduction de Velace](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301523) by [EvilChachouuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilChachouuu/pseuds/EvilChachouuu)



> Written for the Swan Queen Week Forbidden Love prompt, which I did not take seriously at all because... everyone else would, why should I? Enjoy.

Home sweet home, Emma thinks, tugging her boots off and hanging her jacket. She tilts her head, quiet, trying to determine if she's alone or not and after a moment, hearing no sounds from the study, the den or drifting down from upstairs, she pads toward the kitchen with one thing on her mind.

If anyone discovers her secret, she'll most likely end up dead, but she thinks the possible consequence is well-worth the reward. A grin, that would give away her exact thoughts  _if_  one of the people she lived with were present, spreads across her face as she enters, eyes zeroing in on the freezer.

* * *

"Emma Swan-Mills!"

Emma jerks, something flying from her hand and hitting the grate in the fireplace as the shout wakes her from a  _really_ good dream. She had only meant to rest her eyes for a minute, the combination of exhaustion from her day and the warm, full feeling in the pit of her stomach having lulled her to sleep where she was enjoying the slow, teasing lovin' of her wife until being rudely awakened.

It takes her exactly forty-five seconds to understand where she is and who had screamed her name like a banshee, and another fifteen to figure out why before her eyes widen. Her mouth falls open to explain—apologise—plead; for Regina to understand that she is a sad, weak human who is incapable of resisting her body's many cravings (one of which she feels she should point out  _benefits_ the brunette quite well, also which she has never received a single complaint about) and that she deserves forgiveness.

However, while she may not win any awards for being the most intelligent person on the planet, she isn't quite that stupid—at least not consciously, and her brain prevents her from blurting such things as she takes in the stance of her wife, and the glare she's being levelled with.

"I'm waiting," Regina growls, her foot tapping almost comical as it reminds Emma of Saturday's spent lounging on this very couch, watching cartoon characters who express their anger in the exact same way.

It's funny because in her mind, cartoons aren't all that different from fairy tales and Regina is one. Also, fear tends to induce insanely ridiculous thoughts that most people would suggest she consider therapy for, at highly inappropriate times.

"Uh," she stalls, horribly, trying to come up with a reason for why sleeping on the couch won't become the norm until Regina forgives her for breaking a promise—an unfair, stupid, downright mean promise, but a promise nonetheless.

An eyebrow rises, impatience contorting her wife's highly loveable face and Emma sighs, giving in with a shrug. "I've got nothing," she admits, slumping back against the couch.

"You promised," Regina reminds her, sounding both petulant and annoyed. "We agreed once a week, that was the deal, and now I'm forced to punish all of us because you have no restraint whatsoever."

"You knew that when you made me promise in the first place," Emma exclaims. "You have unrealistic expectations!"

Ignoring her protests, Regina waves a hand through the air and fixes her with another glare as she folds her arms across her chest. Emma frowns, wondering what she's done as she glances around the room. Seeing nothing out of place, she turns her attention to herself to see if Regina has changed anything and, finding nothing, her eyes return to the brunette.

She licks her lips, temporarily distracting herself as she still tastes the chocolate and mint on them before she shakes her head and questions, "What did you do?"

Regina smirks. "I got rid of it," she answers, pausing to let the words sink in before she adds, " _All_ of it."

"No," Emma gasps, launching herself from the couch and rushing to the kitchen where she skids to a stop in front of the freezer and yanks the door open. "No no no!"

An amused, evil little chuckle sounds from the doorway and she spins, glaring at the brunette. "Put it back," she half-demands, half-begs but Regina shakes her head, unmoved by the pathetic whine in her voice.

"You cannot eat an entire tub of ice cream by yourself and expect me to do nothing," she states matter-of-factly. "I refuse to become a widow because of your unhealthy eating habits."

"You're being overdramatic," Emma accuses, stomping her foot and receiving a deadpan stare for her efforts.

"Ice cream is now forbidden in the Swan-Mills house," Regina announces, turning from the blonde who gapes at her back as she walks away.

"You're a monster!" Emma calls after her.

* * *

Regina groans, head falling back against her chair with a dull thump as lips attack her throat. One minute she felt smug, hips swaying as she sauntered from the kitchen to her study where she intended to finish a few documents she brought home from work, and the next she found herself with a lap full of the blonde menace.

Despite her sad attempt to resist, knowing exactly what Emma is trying to do, the truth of the matter is; her wife isn't the only one who can't say no to temptation. Regina always,  _always_ craves Emma's touch and the more she responds, the more intent Emma becomes on providing her pleasure.

She was a goner the second they kissed.

Her eyes roll into the back of her head as teeth sink into her pulse and she slips a hand beneath Emma's tank, dragging her nails down her wife's mouth-watering torso in protest when the blonde stops suddenly. Here it comes, she thinks, the ultimatum; take what she said back and enjoy a long, slow build to release or  _don't_ , stick to her guns and deny Emma what she wants, and suffer through the frustration of being denied.

Not only is her wife predictable, but she is so easily manipulated. "Regina," Emma murmurs, pressing kisses to her jaw as fingers fiddle with the buttons lining her shirt.

Regina hums her approval, eyes fluttering closed with a sigh. She already knew what she would do when Emma finally had her in this position. "You can have your ice cream on one condition."

Emma groans but pushes her shirt open, cupping lace-clad breasts and kneading them as she connects their lips, kissing her deeply before she pulls back. "Tell me," she demands and Regina grins as she raises a hand and flicks her wrist.

As the smoke clears, she lies sprawled, naked beneath the blonde and Emma sits back on her calves, also naked as she drinks in the sight of her. "My condition is that you must always share, my dear."

Sweeping a hand down her body, Regina gasps and arches her back as the chill settles on her flesh. Their eyes meet, emerald blown wide with lust and she smirks. If she can't stop her wife from terrible eating habits, she can at least make use of them. "From now on, the only time you can have ice cream is when I'm  _wearing it_."


End file.
